


Butterfly Effect

by WickedSong



Series: butterfly effect & other tales (hacyweek prompts) [1]
Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, hacyweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25115080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedSong/pseuds/WickedSong
Summary: In the morning light of victory, Macy reflects on loss, and wasted time.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn, Macy Vaughn & Maggie Vera
Series: butterfly effect & other tales (hacyweek prompts) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819129
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Butterfly Effect

**Author's Note:**

> -Happy Hacy Week, everyone! I can't remember the last time I participated in a fandom week, and my fic writing is sporadic at best. But there's just something about these guys that gets my creative juices flowing like crazy. And then stuff like this...happens.
> 
> -Hope you enjoy (as much as you can with an angst prompt), and please let me know what you think! :)

"Let her go, Mags."

Macy knew her sisters meant well. Their comfort might be what she _needed_ right now, but it wasn't what she wanted. For that reason, she was glad when Mel spoke up, gently pulling Maggie - sweet, loving Maggie - by the shoulder, and nodded to Macy that they would give her whatever she needed right now. If that was space, then so be it.

Macy nodded back, and turned to climb the stairs, to the refuge of her bedroom.

With a force she hadn’t consciously meant, Macy slammed the door behind her, once she reached her room. Adrenaline, from finally, _finally_ , putting an end to the Faction – and the nightmares they’d created - coursed through her veins, but _soon_ it wouldn’t.

She dreaded it, especially now that she was alone. For the past 24 hours it felt like that rush, stopping the Faction and their plans for magic, was the one thing stopping her from falling apart. She and her sisters had been too busy recruiting every witch they knew of, so that they might stand a chance. Ruby, Layla and her coven, even Abigael and Celeste, though all three had been loath to ask for the latter two's help.

Still, the impeding fight was the only thing that had kept her mind off of the inevitable truth that she’d have to face. Now that it was over, truly over, it was there, and clear as day.

Harry was gone.

 _Really_ gone.

Jimmy went rogue – back in the Faction's control, and compelled to obey them. When knocking sense into his other half hadn't worked, Harry had known what he had to do. Macy only wished she'd realised sooner.

 _'On his own terms_ ', Harry had said. He couldn’t kill Jimmy, who was more than determined to kill them first, and vice-versa, so there was only one option. He’d done it before Macy could even blink, could even think of anything _to_ say to stop him.

As quickly as he was there, he, and Jimmy, were _gone_. Mel had shouted, Maggie sobbed, and Macy did… _nothing_.

Now, she sat on her bed, taking deep breaths in and out; thinking that she should be used to this by now. Everyone she loved eventually left her. It was her curse, she supposed.

Grief was the price of love, and every memory, thought or reminder added up to a thousand pinpricks piercing at her heart. All Macy really wanted was to _sleep_ , to forget for a while, but she didn’t think she’d even be able to do that. Even a sleeping potion Mel had remembered from the Book of Shadows had only given her an hour or two's respite the night before.

Harry's absence had only been a painful reminder when she'd woken back up, and so Macy had then thrown herself into what had to be done, with an even more intense fervour than before.

Now, in the clear morning, of a magical world no longer until threat, Macy wondered if it really had only been a week ago she’d spilled her heart out a then-amnesiac Harry. Her feelings were laid bare, for him to see, and once his memories returned, he’d made it clear he still returned them too.

The walls, the ones she’d professed that he’d melted, were well and truly gone.

But wasted time was wasted time, and, now – in the cold light of a day that was really just beginning - the time they’d had together didn’t make up for the months they’d spent dancing around one another. The misunderstandings, and close calls, the (in hindsight) stupid jealously they’d both exhibited.

Months they could’ve had, _together_ , if only a million things had worked out differently. Like some sort of magnified _Butterfly Effect_ , Macy thought bitterly.

If she’d arrived at the command centre a few minutes earlier, or if Harry hadn’t kissed Abigael. If Harry hadn’t _left_ the command centre after that particularly stormy argument ( _you know damn well how I feel about you_ ), or if she’d gone after him, instead of to Julian and Aspen, in her stubborn anger.

If only they had both stopped being so stubborn altogether and simply admitted how they felt, that little bit earlier…

Logically, Macy knew there was no use crying over what-could-have-beens, but she couldn’t help it, as she looked down at her shaking hands. It wasn’t until she _really_ focused, that she realised she was wracking with sobs that she couldn’t stop. She brought one shaking hand up to her mouth, trying to suppressing the cries as best she could.

It was overwhelming, and it burned; the price of a love lost far too soon.

Steady hands she’d become used to – Harry’s - weren’t there to comfort her right now. Her sisters loved her, and they wanted to help her through this, but they carried their own pain with his loss. Macy had no right to ask them to carry this, too.

It wasn’t just pain, after all. It was guilt, and regret, too. It was knowing, deep in her heart, that they should have had _more time_. And it _hurt_.

There was a light tap on her door, but Macy ignored it, hoping that Maggie or Mel would give up and go away eventually. But the knocking continued, incessantly so, and Macy sighed. She wiped at her eyes – she _hated_ crying – and cleared her throat.

“It’s open,” she said, quietly.

Maggie, with wide and puffy eyes, poked her head around the door.

“We just wanted to see how you were,” she said, softly. “Mel’s making tea, if you want some, to try and help us sleep. She doesn't think we should rely too much on that sleeping potion, not that it worked very well."

“I’m fine,” Macy replied, shaking her head. “You two go ahead.”

Maggie tilted her head, and opened the door a crack further.

“It’s okay, you know?” she said, now standing in the room, instead of peering around the door. “You two were…”

“I said I’m _fine_ , Maggie,” Macy repeated, regretting, all of a sudden, the harsh tone her voice took on.

She wasn’t the only one grieving. They had all been close to Harry, just in different ways.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” Macy added, shaking her head, and holding out a hand to her sister.

The last thing he’d want was for her to push her sisters away, especially when they just wanted to help.

But if Maggie minded, it didn’t show in her face. Instead, she just looked sad, as she grabbed Macy’s hand and squeezed tightly.

She shook her head, and went to open her mouth, as if to say something else, when both of them heard Mel’s voice from downstairs.

“Mace! Mags!”

Maggie let go of Macy’s hand, first out of the room, but with a look back to her oldest sister that said they would pick up this conversation soon, whether she wanted to or not.

Before Macy could even stand, Maggie had backtracked into the room, looking at Macy, wide-eyed and confused.

“Mace, you _have_ to see this.”

Macy wanted to argue. If it wasn’t something urgent – a demon attack or something of equal importance – then she didn’t care, not right now. And she didn’t see how they could bring themselves to care either.

But Maggie rushed forward, tugging Macy to her feet and almost dragged her towards the door.

Maggie may have been small, but her strength couldn’t be denied.

“Maggie, I-“

But Maggie was unrelenting, turning her head, and looking up at her with pleading eyes, that shone with something strangely different from the earlier sadness. Something that told Macy to trust, and follow where her sister led.

“You’re going to want to see this,” Maggie insisted. “ _Now_.”

**Author's Note:**

> -Oh my, I wonder what's going to happen next ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> -The good news is that if you got this far, then...there will be a follow-up tomorrow!
> 
> -I'm sorry if some parts of this fic were vague. Tomorrow's part will expand a little, but at the same time, I do kind of like writing fics where I set up some context and then just go for the feels. Especially when I'm just kind of spitballing how I imagine s2 might've finished, so everything I write could be completely off-base by the time the show comes back.
> 
> -See you guys tomorrow!


End file.
